


Be Still

by LittleWritings



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWritings/pseuds/LittleWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the Commander and the Inquisitor deal with their night terrors</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It would often begin in the dead of night. His shivers would shake her awake and she’d always be lost for a moment, unsure of where she was. But then he would groan or whimper, cry out or plead. She would be yanked into reality quickly then, her focus immediate. She would roll over to face him, usually, and give him a once over before acting. Rarely, very rarely recently, it would turn out to be nothing and she would snuggle into his chest and go back to sleep, grateful that he had found his own peace. More often than not she would have to act, however.  
She would start by securing his arm in her hand, trailing circles across the muscle there. Generally, this would calm his tremors, occasionally eliciting a sigh. If he was still restless she would move her grip to his hand, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with her thumb, while her other hand came up to his forehead, her fingers gently combing through his hair. This was the certain cure for most of the night terrors, her name escaping on his next breath, Ana, as he leaned into her touch. Sometimes his eyes would crack open blearily and he would gather her in his arms, murmuring an apology that she always waved away, before they both passed comfortably back into sleep. It was her physical touch that was the key to pulling him out of the Fade; he seemed to need that physical tether to the real world to bring him back to it, away from the nightmares.  
But that night was not one of those nights; it was not such a simple pain to fix. His face was contorted in a pain she would never fully understand and whose weight she could only hope to share with him. There was sweat beaded on his forehead and she felt her heart break as he whimpered and pleaded with the Maker to bring it to an end. This seemed to be the worst of them yet, his whole body shaking in a way that made her own bones feel jittery. Eliana edged her way closer to him across the mattress, stopping as a strangled cry escaped him. She closed her eyes against it, biting her lip hard to distract herself from the way her heart constricted at the sound. She was close enough now that she reached out a hand for his chest, feeling his hammering heartbeat. At her touch his shaking calmed, only a few quivers running through his body after a moment. He was still restless though, he began to pull away from her as he tried to shift to the other side of the bed. But she held him fast, her hand entangling itself in his shirt, her other grabbing his wrist.  
“Cullen.” Her voice was cracked and quiet from sleep. This calmed him for only a second before her tried to move away again, this time more urgently. “Cullen.” Eliana said again, putting more strength into her voice. He stopped trying to move but began to tremble again. His dreams had pulled him deep that evening. She let go of his wrist, moving to circle her arms around his neck, her fingers twining in his hair as she pulled herself flush to his chest. She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered his name once more. “Cullen.” He stilled. She closed her eyes and turned her face into his neck, breathing in his scent. He seemed to relax muscle by muscle in her embrace, eventually sucking in a deep breath when the process seemed complete. His arms came up around her, clutching her like she was a lifeline, though she supposed she was the only grounding factor he had in these vulnerable moments. His hand smoothed her hair, starting from the top of her head and traveling down to the middle of her back, the repetitive action keeping him preoccupied. She allowed him the time he needed to recover himself, pressing a light kiss into his neck as a reminder that she was there, present with him.  
Eliana was beginning to doze off by the time he shifted against her, pulling back so he could see her face in the moonlight that was pooling on the bed. She cracked a tired smile at him, simply happy to see his face without the pained expression. He looked sheepish though, ashamed. Thus he started with the apologies and she struggled not to interrupt him with a sigh or a dismissive comment. She felt as though this time was different. When he began to struggle for words and flounder with what he was going to say next she laid her head on his chest and sighed, taking hold of his hand. She brought their hands up close to her face, studying their interwoven fingers. He had fallen silent.  
“Did you want to talk about it?” She rarely posed this question. The Commander kept these occurrences close to himself, barely sharing anything about what they entailed. She never pried, he would share when he wanted to and until then she would just have to try and alleviate the part of the burden that he actually shared with her. She knew enough that what plagued him was horrible, he likely kept it from her to prevent her more worry than she already had. Not that it mattered; she worried for him all the same. He was quiet for a long time, his thumb sweeping across her knuckles, another reassurance.  
“No.” His quiet reply was not surprising, but she had decided that she wouldn’t let this one go as easily.  
“Was it an old nightmare or a new one?” Eliana asked, drumming her fingers against the back of his hand, a small sign of irritation. She listened to his breathing as she waited for his reply, it took a while.  
“It was new.” He finally said, moving ever so slightly as he admitted this, showing he was still unsettled.  
“Well, I’m here with you so there’s nothing to worry about.” She looked up at him and smiled. It was the best thing she could think of in that moment to chase away the small tremor of fear in his voice. He returned her smile and planted a kiss on the top of her head.  
“And I am grateful for that.” He murmured against her hair. She hummed and snuggled into his chest, drifting off to sleep soon after, thinking her work was done for the night. Cullen brought his arm up around her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze.  
“But you were there too.” He said, his voice sad, a shiver running through his body. He doubted he would get much sleep the rest of the night, so he settled for soaking up every detail of her body pressed to his, her deep breathing, the way her foot twitched every once in a while. He wondered if having a concrete memory of this would help him stay in reality or if it would only be more twisted when the Fade decided to drag him down again.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliana returned late in the afternoon from Emprise du Lion covered in blood and grime, mud splattered up her calves and back from pushing the horses to get back early. She’d still made it in four days, nothing spectacular. She dropped her horse off at the stables, yanking the gloves off of her hands, waving a worried looking Cole away and stalking past Blackwall before she climbed the steps with Cassandra toward the main hall. They nodded to each other before they split up, Cassandra headed to her practice dummies, Eliana towards her tower. She was happy when the heavy door closed behind her; she leaned against it and sighed, unlacing her boots.  
She drew a bath and soaked for a while, her one allowance before she set to work. Eliana breathed deeply, working to keep her head. When the creeping claws of fear began to work their way into her thoughts, she drained the bath, dressed, and relocated to her desk. Someone had left a plate of food there, next to a stack of missives she had to work through. Eliana suspected Cole; the boy was a worrier, something she usually appreciated, though she wished now his worry would turn elsewhere. It could’ve been Josephine or even Cassandra; those two also had a habit of making sure she was appropriately fed when she was preoccupied with other things. She picked up a piece of bread and the top piece of paper, settling into her chair for a long night.  
Cullen climbed the steps to Eliana’s tower much later that evening, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He had been slammed with meetings and inspections, the reports received out of Emprise du Lion causing him to be more thorough in his work than usual. When he’d had a small break and had heard that the Inquisitor had returned and gone straight to her tower without consulting anyone, he’d sent for some food for her. It was the least he could do. If his own schedule was any indicator, he knew she would not allow time for a meal when she had work to do instead. When he reached her door, he knocked, out of courtesy. Whatever they were, he still felt she reserved the right to her privacy. He had spent many nights in her room, but never without an invitation of some sort. He waited for a few minutes before knocking again. After waiting a total of fifteen minutes, he gingerly opened the door, an idea forming in his head of what awaited him at the top of those stairs. He closed and locked the door behind him, cautiously making his way up the stairs, fighting a smile when the desk came into view. There she was, just as he’d thought, slumped over her work, a rather lengthy report held loosely in one hand, the other draped over her cup of now cold tea. Her mouth was opened slightly and her lower lip trembled with each exhalation. Cullen approached slowly, moving carefully so that his armor didn’t make too much noise. He first removed the report from her hand and tucked her other hand into her chest, bending over at the waist to scoop her up from the chair. He carried her to the bed and awkwardly began to pull back the blankets, doing his best not to wake her. In spite of this, she still stirred in his arms, blinking up at him, a slow smile spreading across her face.  
“Cullen.” Eliana’s sleepy voice gave him goosebumps, warmth constricting his chest in the most pleasant way. She snuggled into his chest, fingers tangling in the furry mantle of his armor as she breathed deep. He had finally freed enough of the bed to lay her down, though there was a small struggle to get her to let go.  
“Stay.” She breathed as she latched on to a pillow, wriggling into a comfortable position. Cullen sighed, unable to deny her even though she likely wouldn’t remember this encounter in the morning. He quietly shed his armor, organizing it on a nearby chair, casting a few glances back at her to make sure she was sleeping soundly.  
As soon as his weight depressed the other side of the mattress, Eliana cuddled herself into his chest, a happy sigh escaping her lips. He smiled to himself and pressed a soft kiss into her hair, settling an arm around her shoulders. It was so easy for him to see this becoming a daily occurrence, domestic. Before he could stop himself, remind himself of the responsibilities weighing on both of their shoulders, the Inquisition, he was carried away to sleep, the comfortable domesticity bringing him peace faster than he would’ve guessed.  
He awoke some time later, the candles guttering in their dregs of wax. He yawned and tried to focus, momentarily disoriented by the presence of a ceiling above him. It came to him eventually, fuzzy at first but then he remembered coming to see Eliana and what followed. He allowed himself a small smile, rolling on his side to see her. These were the moments he enjoyed the most, just the two of them and the silence. But those happy feelings vanished soon enough, when he saw her face scrunched up, brow furrowed and mouth mumbling incoherently. This happened every so often, the woman could control many things, but her dreams were not one of them. When she flinched, he decided to wake her up. Eliana needed real rest, not something that would cause more worry. He reached out a hand and gave her shoulder a little shake. She was a light sleeper so her eyes snapped open and her voice increased in volume, words spilling from her lips, mostly of a begging nature, no stop, please stop, Cullen no. He furrowed his brow and shook her shoulder again, concern clouding his thoughts.  
“Ana.” She looked at him and blinked hard and fast, anxiety clearing to confusion clearing to relief.  
“Oh Cullen. I’m glad you’re here. I was alone in the snow, on a mountain and I was surrounded by red lyrium and red templars and there was nowhere for me to go and I lost my staff and—” The words flew from her in a steady stream, blending into something beyond his understanding. He gave her a squeeze and interrupted her, voice quiet and steady.  
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” She took a deep, wavering breath. He had never seen her so shaken. He had to ask her to start over at least three times before she seemed to have calmed sufficiently to be able to form a coherent retelling of her dream. Eliana pushed away from him, needing space before she began, and he let her, passing his hands up and down her arms. He tried to keep his expression unaffected, but he still bit his lip, gaze intent on her face. She took a deep breath and he braced himself for what would follow.  
“I was back in Emprise du Lion, inspecting I don’t know what, just Inquisition business. It must have been routine, I was alone.” Cullen frowned at that, but didn’t say anything. Even if it were a routine check, he would hope that she wouldn’t go alone. “I was halfway up a mountain that had red lyrium everywhere. It was everywhere, completely repulsing. It made me sick just looking at it.” Eliana stopped herself, turning her face into a pillow, a hand curling into a fist. Cullen took it gently and pried her fingers apart so he could hold her hand. She opened an eye and looked at him, anxiety barely hidden.  
“Then these red templars showed up. Not too much of a problem. But there were a lot of them. Too many of them. They got me pinned against the side of the mountain, I had nowhere to go.” She had her eye squeezed shut again and her hand was gripping his tightly as she gulped, preparing to continue.  
“And there you were. You parted them easily and I was so happy to see you.” Her voice warmed as she relayed this part of the nightmare, but her hand only tightened around his. “But then you drew your sword. I tried to talk to you, you had to be there to get me away from that horrific mountain, it didn’t make sense, why would you be with them…” She squirmed into the pillows again, taking a few deep breaths. Cullen had an icy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he squeezed her hand anyway.  
“I couldn’t seem to get through to you, you attacked. You knocked away my staff somehow and when I dove to grab it, it was flung over the cliff by some type of red magic. When I rolled over, you had your hand outstretched and there was red lyrium growing out of your palm. And then I noticed it was everywhere, just like on the mountain. It was in your armor, your hair, your chest, your face.” Eliana stopped again. Cullen was frozen in place, his grip on her hand just as strong as her grip on him.  
“There was nowhere for me to go. You stopped me from crawling away. Every time I tried, canyons formed whenever you touched your sword to the ground. You wouldn’t listen to me,” her voice broke, “you raised your sword as I backed up to the wall and you-you let it swing—” She sucked in a breath and was silent. Cullen didn’t know what to do. He could barely comprehend that she was still there with him, her clammy fingers entwined with his own, whose grip would only loosen with the Maker’s grace. He thanked the Maker that she was still there with him, instead of pressed up against a wall halfway across the room in terror. There was no telling where he’d be without her presence next to him.  
“It was only—”  
“Do you—” They spoke at the same time. He waited for her to continue, but Eliana waved him forward.  
“It was only a dream,” he said, trying not to cringe at how inept it sounded, “There is no truth in it, as I hope you know.”  
“I know.” She smiled and pressed a little closer to him, pulling their hands up between them, stretching her fingers out. He still could hardly fathom that she chose to close the distance between them instead of pull away. Cullen stretched his own fingers out as well; surprised to see how small her hand was compared to his.  
“Am I in your dreams?” Eliana asked. He had to take a moment to register the question. It was so like her, she had to talk things out; it was how she rationalized the world around her. He was the opposite, preferring to keep the horrors behind closed doors. But he would do this for her; he would open a door and let the terrors loose. Even the door that held back the terrors that had haunted him from Ferelden. Cullen took a preparatory breath before he began to speak. Eliana looked up at him, eyes expectant.  
“You are in my dreams sometimes.”  
“Am I on your side?” Her voice was small, but her gaze was intent.  
“It depends.” He paused, wondering what else to say. He quickly decided that honesty would have to do. “Sometimes we’re fighting together, cutting down all the enemies that are foolish enough to stand against us.” She pressed closer and laid her head on his chest, grinning into his shirt. Cullen felt better, sharing with her, but he knew worse things were to come. Worse things like desire demons impersonating her, torturing her before his eyes…  
“Other times, I have to watch you die. The demons have us both in their grip and they kill you as I watch, helpless.” Her hand squeezed his tight again, her breath fluttering across his shirt.  
“Then, there are the ones where you’re possessed by some desire demon who is working with Corypheus. And I have to fight you, stop you somehow from going through with whatever it is that they have planned.” He was happy that his voice stayed steady, holding that feeling close to try and stop the worry growing in his stomach as Eliana pulled away.  
“Does it always end badly?” She asked, her eyes wide. He hesitated, feeling awkward. The silence was becoming heavy, the answer clear, when he chose to speak.  
“It’s not usually a pretty end.” His voice sounded raspy, his emotions clear. Silence stretched between them again and he began to worry. Had he shared too much? He started to apologize, not knowing what else to do, but Eliana cut him off, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.  
“I know.” She murmured, her voice as full of emotion as his had been. “I know. It’s just the lyrium twisting things around.” She pulled back and looked into his face. “I trust you.”  
He could not believe this incredible woman before him. He had just confessed to having dreams of killing her, having dreams of deep rooted fears that came from his days as a templar, his days in Ferelden, and she still said she trusted him. It was good that she held the position of Inquisitor; she had the opportunity to spread that goodness of herself to the rest of Thedas.  
“I know that you do not truly believe that I could be so easily possessed and manipulated. Just as I know that you would not abandon me on a cliff as it happened in my dream. You are my Commander; my protection is your responsibility, regardless of any emotional ties we may share.” She smiled and his chest felt tight with affection for her. He brought his forehead to hers, looking her in the eye.  
“I think emotional ties took priority over any responsibility some time ago.” He chuckled as he said it, feeling genuinely worry free for the first time in so long. Her eyes crinkled as her smile widened and he thought he saw the beginnings of a blush creeping up her cheeks. He had to kiss her, show her just how much she meant to him. And he did, his mouth connecting with hers with such passion they were breathless when she eventually broke the kiss, eyes still smiling.  
“Thank you.” she panted and he laughed. She joined him for a moment before explaining. “Not for that, though that was wonderful.” Cullen kissed her again, more gently than before. She looked more than a little exasperated when they parted a second time, but her eyes were still sparkling.  
“Will you let me finish?” She asked, eyebrows high on her forehead. He kissed the corner of her mouth, his smile still in place.  
“Of course.” He replied, propping himself up on an arm to get a better look at her.  
“Good.” Eliana looked at him sternly before continuing. “I really needed this tonight. Emprise du Lion got to me more than I had originally thought, but I’m glad you helped me work through it.” She paused, looking down and fiddling with a strand of rosy hair that had spilled over her shoulder. “And thank you for sharing. I know it doesn’t come easy to you. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you.” She looked back up at him, almost shyly.  
“And thank you,” Cullen leaned forward and brushed his lips across her forehead, “for being here. I truly don’t know where I would be without you, Ana.” She snuggled into his chest after her said this, releasing a contented sigh.  
“I’ll be here as long as you need me,” she replied, “and hopefully after that too.” He rested his cheek on top of her head, bringing his arms up around her, settling into sleep.

The next day as Eliana crossed the courtyard to speak with Krem about finding some work for the Chargers, she ran into Cole sitting on the wall just down the stairs and overlooking the gates. She felt a pang of guilt for how she had acted the day before and decided she should address it.  
“Cole,” she struggled to find the words to continue when he turned his large, pale eyes toward her. “Thank you for the dinner you sent last night. I… I wasn’t myself.” He looked at her for a moment before his head swiveled to look out over the healer’s tents below.  
“You’re better now. Sharing the night terrors has helped heal you both.” His voice was happier than usual and he looked back at her, the touch of a smile on his face.  
“I didn’t send dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song "Be Still" by the Fray, in case anyone is interested.


End file.
